Got it Memorized?
by levisrictusias
Summary: Axel jogs Roxas's memory.


**A/N: **This fic has been swirling around my head since I first saw the Roxas/Axel interaction in KH2. It's been literally _scratching me on the insides_ to be written. And so, here it is, my first dive into Kingdom Hearts fanfiction. Lord knows it's time. Very, very, _very_ slight A/U. Roxas!Angst in the beginning.

"**Got it Memorized?"**

He's angry. Angry because of the blatant injustice. He didn't _ask_ to be born. Damnable kid. He laughs now, kind of masochistically, as he chides himself, because really, he's just damned half of who he is.

"Why did it have to be me?" he asks no one in particular as he storms out of the excruciatingly white chamber. It's too bright for him he scoffs and finds himself cursing Nature for blatantly disregarding his quite-dark sentiments at the moment as he steps outside to the gloriously setting sun.

"Why couldn't _you_ have been the Nobody?"

He treks back towards town, knowing full well that he has no where to go. It isn't as if anyone can see him. He passes the Old Mansion and vows to burn it the next chance he gets. A derisive snort. He knows there won't be a "next time". He allows his mind to backtrack as he rolls over what the man—DiZ, was it?—had told him in the expanse of white.

He had appeared out of the darkness again only to explain to Roxas that he needed him to merge with Sora (who so peacefully sleeps in his floral capsule, blissfully and cursedly unaware of the sheer abhorrence that is directed towards him at the moment) to restore the boy's memory.

"Wait, then what happens to _me_?" he had demanded the man in the crimson robes.

He had seen—without actually _seeing_—the solemn expression behind his wrappings. "You will be…no more."

The words had been more real than anything Roxas had felt in a long time. "W-what?" he stammered in response and he felt the keyblade dissolve in his hand.

He saw DiZ's good eye close remorsefully. "You will cease to exist. Well," he had added offhandedly, "you don't exist in the first place, really. But it will be even more so, I suppose, if you do choose to merge with Sora."

He hadn't said anything for a moment. "Will…will I get to see Naminé again?" he'd asked, already knowing the answer.

DiZ let out a weary sigh. "No, Roxas, you will not."

He clenched his fists and was wishing dearly that his keyblade hadn't gone away only to have it reappear within his grasp once again. "What if I say 'no'?" he threatened, feeling a battle coming on.

But DiZ made no move to force him. "Then all worlds as we know shall perish."

Silence on Roxas's part once again.

"You must do what is right, Roxas," DiZ told him gently, "but I cannot force you to give up what you have claimed as your own."

He had run out of there before he could reply with a rather acrid "what if I want to do what _I_ want?" and now, here he is, trudging the streets of Twilight without rhyme or reason. He has a decision to make, he knows, and _because_ he knows, he realizes that the decision has already been made for him, by his…

He chuckles bitterly again…he was moments away from thinking "heart".

He sinks down to the ground, feeling his keyblade fade away once again and with it any hope he might have had. How could he still breathe, live, _feel_ without a heart?

"Little late for little boys to be out at this time of night, isn't it?"

He jumps, blade at the ready once again and poises to strike when he sees an explosion of red hair emerge from a dark hood.

"Never you mind what I'm doing out here. Besides, it's _sunset_," he hisses in response and inwardly smirks with satisfaction when Axel jumps slightly.

"Always the comedian, aren't ya?" Axel says conversationally, though his hands are raised in a slight gesture of surrender. "Relax, will ya?"

Roxas doesn't relent. "I've just had everything dear to me _ripped_ away from me—how would _you_ act?"

Axel doesn't miss a beat. "Exactly like I _have been_."

For a brief moment, the two are frozen in time, both withholding their position, until Roxas slowly lowers his weapon.

"Look, Axel," Roxas begins and he sees a fleeting, joyous look cross his addressee's face, "I'm sorry, but I won't ever remember you. I won't even remember _this_ for long." Here he waves his blade in reference to their surroundings.

Axel lowers his arms as well and furrows his brow. "So, you're going along with it, then?"

He doesn't have to ask him what he means by "it", and so he nods.

He shakes his head and Roxas wonders concisely if his hair is natural. "Great. All that work for nothing. And you can still kick my ass. Figures that the Fates'd be such bitches, eh?" he jokes wryly.

Roxas doesn't know what to say so he just nods, keyblade still hanging limply in his hand to his side.

"Don't worry, though, if you merge, I'll find a way to get you back out. Maybe then I'll talk some sense into ya, hm, Roxas?" he says with a roguish wink and Roxas can't help but feel his stomach flip-flop when he does so.

"What's stopping you now?" he asks before he can arrest himself.

Axel raises a thin red brow before a smile lights up his feature. "Still as thick as ever. Didn't hear me? You kicked my ass back there! I'm tired! Or did you forget _that_, too?" he teases and steps closer—Roxas flinches and raises his keyblade once again.

An inexplicable emotion rushes through him as Axel winces and puts his hands up again. "Watch it with that thing!"

Roxas sighs and lowers his weapon again. "Sorry for being reflexive. Maybe _you're_ the one with the memory problem—you obviously forgot that you've been attacking me for the last couple of days!"

"Psh, lighten up, I was just playin' around," he remarks and steps closer.

He feels himself tense up, but doesn't raise his weapon.

"Yeesh, you really _don't_ remember a thing, do you?"

Roxas frowns.

Axel chuckles and for a moment Roxas wonders what's so funny about the situation but comes up with nothing. So he asserts, "_No_, I _don't_," and reflects on how many times he's going to have to repeat himself. "Why don't you _remind_ me?" he asks, partly because he'd like very much to know a little and partly, ironically enough, because it won't matter in a few hours, anyway.

Instead of jumping at the opportunity, Axel simply shrugs and remarks with an unaffected "You and I just used to have a lot more fun, that's all—pity you don't remember."

He's confused now. "A lot _more_ fun? Do you consider this fun?"

Axel laughs and Roxas feels his stomach constrict with an intangible sensation. "Bantering with a stranger-except-not in the middle of the street in the dark?" Here he leans in to breathe into his ear, "You betcha."

Roxas jumps and tries raising his blade again but finds that his arms suddenly feel like lead-on-fire—Axel loosens his grip on his arms but keeps them there.

"Nothing triggering your memory, Rox?" he breathes on his cheeks and Roxas suppresses the sudden burst of something ambiguous spread from his navel both hot and cold in sensation.

"You always did dominate in the battlefield," Axel comments casually, but his lips are brushing his ear with every word he says. "Then again, I dominated other aspects…"

Roxas feels his body stiffen as Axel slides his hands up his arms, a trail of fire burning in their wake, as if flames have licked them.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?" he tries to demand harshly but it comes out as a shaky murmur as he finds Axel nibbling on the flesh of his neck. He can't move, but he can certainly feel, and once again he ponders on the reason why they're called Nobodies, how he still…_desires_, he supposes, but is devoid of a heart.

Axel stops his ministrations to look him square in the eye. "Jogging your memory."

And before he knows it, their lips are crushed together and Axel's hands are buried in his hair, as if afraid he'll disappear. He feels him bite down on his bottom lip and suddenly his body's on fire and his senses are being attacked in the most absolutely blasphemous ways.

His eyes roll back to his head when Axel's fingers uncurl from his hair and rake down his back; he arches and is suddenly assaulted with flashes of things past—limbs entangled in a snare of bed sheets, skin, ferocious battles of the tongue, skin, strangled cries and groans of ecstasy, _skin…_

And before he knows it, his hands are moving of their own accord, knowing all of a sudden just where to touch (the small of the back), where to taste (the shell of the ear), and just what sounds Axel makes when Roxas nibbles on the skin bared by the slight "v" from his hooded cloak (an almost deliciously erotic gasp)

He has no qualms as Axel slips in his marvelous tongue in their kiss, no qualms as a hand grazes the skin of his abdomen under his shirt…

…His breathing hitches when he feels him cup his arousal.

"So..." he hears him breathe against him, "got it memorized?"

**Fin.**


End file.
